Twelve Days of Christmas 2013
by QuickSilverFox3
Summary: Christmas drabble/story type things of various pairs which are influenced by the song 'Twelve Days of Christmas.' Partridge in a Pear Tree: AusHun. Sorry everyone. The college workload has got to me again :( Discontinued
1. Chapter 1

**Partridge in a Pear Tree~  
**_AusHun_

There was peals of laughter where there was once silence in the early golden light of the dawn and it roused Roderich from his deep sleep, bringing him groggily back into consciousness. One hand stretched out across the vast expanse of the bed, only to encounter nothing but emptiness where his wife had been sleeping. Rubbing long fingers into his eyes to banish the last traces of sleep from his mind as well as the last traces of the dream from his skin, before he sat up in the bed, feeling his muscles protest and his bones crack as they shifted after a long period of inactivity.

"Roderich?" Elizabeta called from a different room, laughter colouring her voice as she was painted in his mind eye, smile on her face as sunlight streamed through one of the bay windows behind her, "I'm in the sitting room."

"I will be through in a moment," he called back, words stilted and curt as age old instincts took over for a brief moment, but were banished in the next moment as she laughed back in answer. Swinging his legs over the side, he searched blindly for the slippers which he knew where somewhere at the side of the bed, and yet strangely his bare feet encountered nothing but air. A familiar frown creased his aristocratic features before he carefully slid the wire framed glasses onto his nose to survey his surroundings. Door was closed, blinds were draw, no-one was visible outside and the wardrobe door was tightly closed, so it was safe to conclude that he was alone in the room and therefore he would be able to commit this most heinous of ungentlemany actions. Double checking that he was alone in the room for a second time, the Austrian wriggled around so he could lean off of the bed and poke his head to see the underneath, cheeks already flushing in reflexive shame at his actions as he surveyed the spotless floor before returning as quickly as he could to a seated position in the centre of the bed, gathering the cushions around him defensively.

So it was apparent that his best pair of slippers had decided to move from their pre-decided upon location. This could be problematic, Roderich thought, before giving up and quickly sliding out of the bed, feeling the softness of the carpet underneath his feet quickly make way to cold wooden floor as moved from the bedroom into the hallway, heading for the sitting room where Elizabeta had been a few minutes prior. Carefully he pushed open the door and entered the room, closing it soundless behind as he surveyed the scene before him, a smile playing on his lips. Elizabeta grinned back at him, her long brown hair pulled up into a messy ponytail as a testament to how long she had been up while she allowed her husband to catch the extra few hours of sleep that he needed to function after spending most of the night very much awake and both loving and hating every second of it. He responded to the awkward looking finger wiggle that she gave him and manoeuvred his way across the littered room, internalising the shriek of horror at the state of his once pristine room to lean down and press a kiss to her forehead before she grabbed hold of the collar of his nightshirt to pull him a bit further down, so she could kiss him properly, admittedly a bit strangely because of the odd angle, but it was no less perfect than the first time she had kissed him, covered in blood and dirt but still as radiant as an angel.

"How are you this morning love?" he asked quietly, straightening up and tucking one loose strand of hair back behind her ear, forgetting about his own state of undress as he did so.

"A bit tired," she admitted with a wry smile, scooting up as much as she could and patting the seat cushion next to her, allowing Roderich to delicately sit down beside, crossing his legs at the ankles and taking hold of her hand, running one calloused thumb across the worn surface.

"I can imagine. And how is-"

"Daddy!"

The two broke from their hushed conversation to grin brightly at the small girl who had barrelled into the room, huffing from the exertion. Elizabeta grabbed onto Roderich's hand, short nails digging into his palm as she slapped one hand over her mouth to keep from bursting into hysterical laughter. Roderich was similarly affected, though he managed to hide most of it, save for his frantically twitching lip as he managed to get out, "What are you doing darling?"

"I'm going to go play in the snow!" Ada declared with all of the childish determination she could muster, brown eyes flashing dangerously at her giggling parents as she pouted and folded her arms, twisting her body away from them as she did so.

The small girl was wearing a grey coat which was partly buttoned down from the top over a dark brown jumper which could be plainly seen. A orange-red scarf was wrapped around her neck, almost covering her face which forced her to raise her chin defiantly at the two adults as she leaned over to pick up the bucket and spade that she was carrying, revealing that she was wearing her grey socks pulled up over her trousers and Roderich's liberated dark grey slippers over the top of them all.

"Why are you laughing?" Ada demanded, spinning around indignantly in childish fury to storm over to the settee where Elizabeta and Roderich had yet to move from.

"You just look like a partridge darling," Elizabeta said reassuringly, smoothing one hand over the girl's dark hair which was spilling from underneath the orange-red hat which she had jammed lopsidedly on top of her head.

"And it is not normal to take a bucket and spade out into the snow," Roderich added, adjusting the hat so it sat straight and then attempting to button up the rest of her coat, but giving up when he discovered the missing buttons. His comment was greeted by an eye roll from his daughter who returned on her single minded trek towards the outside world with only the passing call of "How else will I make snow castles? Come on Mama and Papa!" over her shoulder as she disappeared down the corridor, feet clumping noisily every step in the too large footwear.

"She is definitely your daughter," Roderich commented as he stood up and picked his way across the floor once more, aiming for the grand piano which proudly stood in the corner of the room. However he was intercepted by the Hungarian woman who scooped him off of his feet and was carrying him down the corridor towards the open front door, through which cold wind was billowing.

"Yes and you're coming out with us. After all, a snow castle needs a snow king!" she laughed, placing him down only to toss his thick winter coat at him while pulling on her own over the top of her pyjamas. It was moments like these, Roderich realised that made everything better in the world, even if they were going to be freezing cold and soaked to the bone after a few hours, it was worth it in the end to see the most important women in his life smile like that.

* * *

_Pear Tree can be symbolic for the birth of a baby girl and so that's how this was born ^^ And was written to surprisingly angsty music for a Christmas fic. Also the clothes Ada was wearing were based off of the colouring of the Grey Partridge which is found all over Europe. I used the picture on this website for guidance: grey-partridge/perdix-perdix/_


	2. Chapter 2

**I swear to God the Universe is conspiring against me :( I'll have to double update at some point. Dear Lord...**

It was something that they didn't talk about. The curved barely there smudges on their wrists were ignored by everyone, though they ignored them for propriety, while Yao and Alasdair ignored them because why should it matter? They had each other for company and they didn't need anyone else, though the adults still whispered and the children still sneered both behind their backs and to their faces. Fingers intertwined tightly around each other, smudges pressed against unmarked skin as they stood, ready to take on the world together, always together.

It was Alasdair who drew first blood on the playground, a feral snarl on his lips as he stood over Yao who had been pushed to the floor by the same boy who bow lay in a whimpering, groaning heap at Alasdair's feet.  
It was Yao who got sent out of the classroom first for moving faster than Alasdair could and slamming the girls head into the desk who had dared to mock his best friends baby brother. The fact that he didn't know which one she had been referring to was of no matter, Alasdair had many baby brothers (much to their annoynace) and Yao had many siblings. And they both looked out for them.

Though neither of them would admit it, they both cried with the other when their younger siblings names came through on their wrists, as bright and clear as the sun in the sky, relieved that they wouldn't have to go through the hell that Yao and Alasdair were forced to go through, simply for being different. And if they would trace a delicate finger over the smudge when they thought the other wasn't looking, well they weren't about to call them on it.

They loved the winter though, the snow which came down in flurries, in sheets or sometimes just lazy flakes that spiralled down. Alasdair loved the ice, the ability to go gliding across it like he possessed wigs was something he treasured beyond almost everything and the Scottish boy would grin and wave at his best friend from his position on the ice, back curved and one leg straight propelling him into a spin. Yao would wave back, secretly glad that his favourite part of winter, the warm  
gloves covered his wrist, allowing him to pretend for jut a while longer thy he had a future.

It had been an idea, spawned off when they were children, left alone in the vast Kirkland household while their families went out. The curiosities of children knows no bounds and quickly the makeup was found and then the foundation. Brushes were fumbled between unsure fingers, but stroke by stroke the smudge disappeared underneath smooth foundation. And in it's place, in shaky childish hand, the others name appeared on the black pencil. Yao read the name proudly on Alasdair's wrist, the Scottish boy beaming up at the Chinese boy in delight as he wrote his own name, **Alasdair** in his own bold print on Yao's slim wrist.

But that had been as children, and it was Yao who noticed first, his scream of horror rousing Alasdair from his spot on the couch and to come barrelling into the kitchen to stare at Yao who only waved his wrist at him, unable to do more. The smudge was becoming clearer and it was with slow dread that Alasdair looked at his and realises that his too was becoming clear.  
"I..." he began and trailed off, eyes wide in horror.  
"I..." Yao echoed, breath becoming caught in his throat as the grey swirled before his eyes becomes clearer by the second.  
Alasdair closed his eyes and tilted his head up to the ceiling, breath coming in short pants through his nose as he entire body trembled with the urge to fight or flight.  
"I need tah tell yah something afor this happens tae us," he managed to say quietly, words getting caught in his throat. Yao only nodded, head spinning as he stepped closer to his friend, feeling like he was walking to his doom.  
"I love yah," Alasdair said finally, eyes closed as he lowered his head in defeat, feeling by the tingling in his skin thy were was now a name present there, the name of the person he would be tied to for te rest of his life. Yao blinked slowly, tears enveloping his vision in a hazy and film and stretched up to press his lips against the taller boys, feeling him reprociate as if he was dying and this was his last request.

Together they wrapped their fingers together, like they did long ago, and raises them to see whose name was their. With a happy shout they wrappe. Around each other pulling each other down to kiss each they again, before moving on to kiss every bit of skin they could reach, lips passing over the text on their wrists again and again as the clock chimed Christmas morning in the background. Yao it read proudly on Alasdair's wrist framed by coiling tattoos. **Alasdair** it read on Yao's wrist and the two couldn't be happier.


End file.
